The blast of water was like an underwater explosion. The sudden pressure wave, unleashed by the corrupted python's movement, struck all three of them with brutal force.
Hope, Massa, and Nefer were hurled upward—bodies spinning and limbs flailing in the watery void. The surface broke in a violent splash as they were thrown out of the stagnant pool like ragdolls, crashing onto the muddy bank with painful grunts.
Hope rolled once, twice, and landed on his side, soaked to the bone, coughing water out of his lungs in ragged, shuddering bursts. The taste of algae and rot lingered in his throat. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, and for a moment, everything was spinning. He dug his fingers into the mud, grounding himself.
Massa slammed down hard beside him, instantly twisting onto her knees and spitting out water. Her eyes burned with rage. With a hoarse, breathless voice, she barked out her fury.
"What the fuck was that!?"
Hope couldn't answer properly. He sat up, chest rising and falling like bellows, water dripping from his ragged black hair, mouth parted as he gasped. His voice came out raspy, shaking.
"T-there's… there's a massive snake in there… definitely… corrupted… probably a devil."
His words were disjointed, but they didn't need to be poetic. The horror in his eyes said enough.
Nefer staggered upright a few feet away, pale as ash. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hilt of her weapon. She hadn't seen the creature properly, but she didn't need to. She could feel it—the malevolent aura that clung to her skin like invisible oil.
Even among awakened, even among those who had danced with death and clashed with fiends, corrupted devils were something else. A level beyond. Fiends might be monsters. Devils were walking calamities.
"I hope it doesn't come ou—" Hope began.
But the world exploded.
A deafening roar tore through the air as the water's surface shattered like a bomb had gone off. A wall of liquid surged upward in a titanic geyser, and from it emerged death incarnate.
The serpent burst into the open, its immense body surging from the depths and landing right in front of them with a thunderous crash that split the earth.
The ground quaked beneath their feet.
Muddy water splashed in all directions. Debris and stones launched into the air. Cracks spiderwebbed across the soil.
It stood—no, loomed—before them. At least twenty feet tall from the base of its coiled mass to its horned, predatory head. Its body was coiled tightly, its tail flexing behind it like a living whip. Its eyes burned red, slitted and ancient. Its scales were dark as midnight and shimmered like black steel, each one jagged like serrated knives.
And its fangs—twin ivory blades, thick as spears—gleamed in the dim light, dripping with viscous, purple-black saliva that hissed as it hit the dirt.
Hope stared, frozen for a heartbeat, eyes wide, heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Crap.
His hands moved almost by instinct, summoning his sword from the soul sea. A flash of cold metal erupted in his grip. The weapon still bore faint cracks from its last repair, but it was whole enough to serve.
His arms trembled—not just from cold or fatigue, but from primal, instinctive fear. The kind of fear that dug into the marrow. His wet hair clung to his face, water trailing from his chin and armor. He grit his teeth.
The snake lunged.
Not at one of them—at all of them.
The strike was like a mountain falling. Its entire body surged forward, tail whipping behind it, jaws snapping wide enough to swallow a man whole. The ground exploded beneath its charge, chunks of earth erupting skyward.
Hope moved. He didn't try to block—it would have been suicide. He sidestepped, trying to avoid the full brunt of the strike. He was fast. Fast enough to survive. But not fast enough to avoid being clipped.
The tail caught him in the ribs.
BOOM.
Pain exploded through his body as he was hurled backwards like a rag doll. His body hit the ground and bounced, rolling across the torn earth until he finally skidded to a stop. He gasped, blood spraying from his lips as he coughed. For a moment, his vision doubled, the world spinning in blotches of red and black.
He forced himself up, shaking. His side felt like it had been caved in, and hot, sticky blood oozed down his waist beneath his armor. His arms trembled. But he stayed upright.
He had to.
Ahead, Nefer danced with death.
The serpent coiled again, lashing at her with blinding speed. She darted and twisted, ducking low, flipping back, using every ounce of agility and experience to evade. Her left arm was bleeding, and a chunk of her thigh armor had been torn away. She was faster than Hope, more graceful—but even she was struggling.
She slashed at the snake when she could, a silver streak arcing across the air. But each time her blade connected, it glanced off the serpent's armor-like scales with barely a scratch. Sparks flew, but the flesh beneath remained untouched.
The snake turned toward her fully now, hissing, fangs bared.
"Nefer!" Hope shouted hoarsely.
But she didn't look at him. Her focus was locked—sweat mixed with blood on her forehead.
Then came Massa.
She'd circled wide, her hands glowing with pale energy. With a shout, she extended both palms and unleashed a blast of force energy, slamming it into the serpent's side.
The explosion of light and sound was deafening. Dust and water sprayed again.
But when it cleared… the snake was barely staggered.
Its massive head turned slowly toward Massa, a low growl rising from its throat.
Hope stared, panting, his blade trembling in his hand.
They were strong. All three of them were awakened. Survivors. Fighters.
But this?
This was different.
This was a devil.